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gossamer loveyou will love a woman
who uses the word
too often. she will
diagnose dead artists' descents
into madness and laugh
too loudly at jokes
no one understands.
she will braid crowns of
flowers, she will write poems
in constellations, she will
try to walk like a dancer so
no one can hear her
leave. she will be
an ice sculpture, and when
she cries, you'll convince yourself
she's melting, she loves you, you've
changed her, you've
changed; she will wear you
like a comma, like
an incomplete thought,
in her story, and
she will leave you wondering
california wintersthe tears
I rationed have all
run out. Tuesday comes
up behind me and steals
my breath; my cat snores.
she can’t sleep soundly
since she lost her seventh
life. I’m like that, I’m always
worried someone will try to steal
what I’ve already given away.
I miss color. newsprint sobs
washed me out. I am a
blank canvas, I am a faceless,
I am one
of you. I wake up sweating
and it’s winter and I can’t
sleep because my memories
follow me between my sheets;
jake still won’t listen.
we never knew we were the
lucky ones, we scarred, too. don’t
touch me. don’t want
me, don’t bare my bones
when you think I’m not
watching. I’m afraid of
myself. breathing loud
enough that others know
I exist; you follow me,
needing, laughing, it’s
a game. who has lost
the most, we all want
to win; I’m so tired, so scared,
there’s no one in the world
who sees me. I can’t cry.
we’re in a drought.
to the girl with hungry footstepsI'm sending all my words back
to the people who need them--
people who wear scars like
war trophies, like jewelry, like
an identification for those suffering
from the same acceptance of
self-hate. this is to the people
who sleep with one eye open, who
cry when footsteps enter their room
at night; this is to the girls
who love by cutting their hearts
into snowflakes and watching
them melt. I left you behind and
I can't be sorry for that.
you are the type of beautiful
that kindly asks the world
to fuck off. the days we buried
have decomposed, headstones are
snapshots; sanitized breakdowns,
rusty tongues, sighs laced
with fear, I love you, I love
you. saturdays were the best
because we could sleep through
the nightmare. you painted me a
picture of the world with your words
and they made us wash it away
for being transparent.
we were afraid of nothing
but the monsters in our eyelids.
back then, we counted days
like shooting stars; it took 67
to wish myself away. this
is for you, skygazer;
butterfliedit is a snake
coiled in my stomach,
the urge to vomit
everything inside of me, to purge
all the toxic not-
good-enoughs. to retell
the same story and expect
a different ending is
the dysfunction that landed
us in here. I'm sorry
I don't follow you into
your dreams at night. I'm sorry
my smile is not the moon,
I'm sorry I did anything
to make you notice
me at all. no finger
down the throat could ever
mutterings from over the cuckoo's nesti.
it is dark. that
is a judgment. my roommate
is snoring, and somewhere,
a girl is crying because
she doesn't have a heart
so she doesn't have
a home. if we are time bombs,
I think I must have detonated
a little late. it is dark
and I can't see
why all problems are defined
but their need to be solved.
I dream in color, but I live
in black and white. I drown
in gray faces that don't
sound familiar; it is dark
and I can't remember
the last time it was bright.
I am afraid
of caring. we are a strange
people, we, who love by
hating ourselves, by bleeding
am afraid that
one day, I might start crying,
and I won't be able to stop and
it will be the second Great Flood,
all the world will drown in
my mistakes. You
draw that out of me,
like a marionette on
a string, you pull these
anchors out from
my stomach until I
can hardly breathe. you
live on the other half of the mirror,
I am afraid
that distance is too
in the end,
it's all the same. every
reasons why we should be in loveif I could
I’d love you like
those couples who grow
into each other and make
poetry out of body language
and wear one another’s
weaknesses when they get
too heavy and talk about
the weather without ever really
meaning the weather at all;
and you’d keep me from
falling asleep in the ocean
and I’d lie about little
things, always confusing
Sunday for Tuesday and
you for somebody with
the same face who
was always afraid of
me. you’d chuckle and
hold me and I’d cave in to
you like the hungry tide
and you’d say I looked
beautiful when I cried
and I wouldn’t believe you
but I’d cry more anyways.
if people were alive,
you’d be the brightest
one. I don’t have much
to offer but I could write you
a million dedications
in the sand, and give you
pocket change when you
needed a wish; I could
take you to New Zealand
to paint water lilies or England
to go skydiving or Italy
to fall in love and mean it
and I would promise you
the moon an
honesty isn't a weaknessI have a headache and not enough time
to explain the irony of how I want to be
every pretentious poet making art out of
themselves, cutting open their side and writing
in blood and pixie dust; or how difficult
it is to make a good allegory out of carsickness
and household complacency. this
is every secret I ever hid. when I was 9
someone dissected the world in front of me,
showed me it was a living, wanting thing
and that I was just a lonely cell, functioning
through my dysfunction; when I was 11
the boy I liked told me he’d be interested
if I were prettier and I learned starvation
was more a state of mind than a presence
of being. when I was 13 I researched the lethality
of cleaning products, because god, I felt so dirty,
and nothing can clean you more than a couple cupfuls
of bleach. when I was 15 I was old and decrepit
and mostly dead, returning from war with flowers
for graves that weren’t filled and a heart of
tragedy, vulnerable and draped in every shade
of mourning f
does she know the astrological significance
of the bruises starring along
your wrists? if I could, I’d
run away somewhere where
the sky is silent and the people
hate honest eyes. here’s my problem,
I’ve wasted all my time daydreaming
in the universe of your scars. I wonder
if substantiality is lethal.
[when will you move on
like you know what
you’re doing with your life,
like this tiny existential
failure is only a hazard sign
on the roadmap of your journey,
like the world weighing down
upon your shoulders is an
exercise in vanity and quietude
instead of someone
lists of necessities: methods of
starvation, hours to fall asleep by, sharp
objects, words that mean nothing.
I’m sorry this isn’t better. I’m sorry
I’m not better and I’m sorry
nothing is bright anymore.
things you remind me of:
the november sky
right before it rains.
Heartless......no moreShe needed space like the rest...
She left one instead in his chest...
Remained no heart to be broken
For the words already spoken,
From a confronted confess -
"You are so heartless"
Felt like his insides hollowed;
Felt like he was being followed,
By a black cloud o' lies
Rainin misery and despise.
Put up a wall and fences;
Brought up his defenses.
With pills and a session.
To himself he's confined
Else but heartbreak on his mind
A month or two passed by..
Facing the reality he's tryin to Deny.
Morbid memories he dismembers
And then he remembers....
To get somewhere wholehearted
The secret is getting started..
.. started with a day in the park
..couple o' hours before the dark
Alone in his own zone
Mathers chantin on the headphone
Caught somethin across the aisle
A beaming, beautiful smile.
More than just a few HEYs
Same went for a few day
Talked on and until late
Turned to a dinner at 8
Her beauty, grace and smile,
Life was again wort
My Love The ShipwreckMy love was a shipwreck deep under the sea,
a silent and watery prison for me.
With corners so silent and robes full of death,
and lips that could capture my every breath.
Fingers that groped quite like long strands of kelp,
dragging me down when I begged them for help.
A body as pale as a skeleton sunk,
wrapping me up in a tidewater trunk.
Dragging my tongue across decks made of night,
tangled in rigging that delayed my flight.
Dredging for anchors that didn't exist,
never quite knowing to cease and desist.
The crow's nest held views eternally blank.
Eyeglass-horizons so cloudy and dank.
Ghost-hunting sails without wind from afar,
with watery eyes staring up at the stars.
Drinking deep of a poison more potent than rum;
sobbing for gallows that just wouldn't come.
Walking on sandbars with no relative end,
fantastical promises just 'round the bend.
Screaming out into trenches as deep as the earth.
Discovering death when I wanted birth.
A face utterly haunting could drag me deep d
Let MeLet me touch your chest
To make sure your heart's beating.
Let me feel your breath
To make sure you're still breathing
Tell me how I look
To make sure you still see me.
Tell me sweet nothings
So I can think you still love me.
The Beating of a HeartThe beating of a heart,
Is more than just a sound,
It's the tune of a music hall,
Crowded all around.
The band takes its seats,
The conductor in his place,
A mysterious song,
Takes up a quickened pace.
Will this be in harmony?
Are we a strong duet?
Is this just a solo?
All I can do is fret.
The tempo of my heart,
Is beating out of time,
It's jumping from my soul,
And making my love rhyme.
Frustration surrounds me,
Staccato all around,
My heart's in double forte,
With each and every pound.
It turns into a waltz,
Then a jazzy tune,
This song is too confusing,
All I can do is swoon.
The song inside my heart,
A ballad of the best,
It's turning to allegro,
And running from my chest.
As the melody slows,
A fermata is all that stands,
The audience will pause,
Then join together all their hands.
Our tango was played well,
But I am at a loss,
What is this feeling?
My eyes feel quite cross.
The Only One LeftNobody wants you if you've beaten the block
But nobody wants the brand new
And you're constantly fighting the hands of the clock
Pretending you know what to do
And you're fooling yourself into feeling okay
And you smile every day when it hurts
Pretending the sunshine might clear up the rain
But the pretending rarely works
You can try to be brave and take on every leap
Hoping you might find the fall
But realising everyone is too far to reach
You still try but miss them all
Getting battered and bruised by the journey of love
Never finding the finished result
And just when you think that the world's had enough
It comes back with another assault
With the time passing by you're the only one left
And you're wishing for something to change
So you try with each heartbeat and every breath
But the sun still won't clear up the rain
Shadouge part 5Mierda…lo arruine todo parece que no tengo suerte pensaba mientras salía de la habitación
“Coronel Mark está bien como se siente quiere que lo ayude realmente lo siento no sé por qué shadow hizo eso ese tonto no se que le paso” dijo nerviosa rouge
“Jeje está bien hace mucho que no me golpean así, el tiene mucha fuerza, y si no te preocupes rouge yo estoy bien porque estoy acá contigo preciosa gracias por ayudarme jeje bueno mejor ya voy a ponerme algodón no quiero mancharme de sangre“dijo el coronel
“Está bien mark iré a buscar una enfermera, le avisare que lo revise y buscare a shadow hablare con el coronel adiós” dijo rouge con un tono triste
Adiós… mi sacerdotisa hermosa pensó mark
“Hola podrías ir a la habitación 115 a ver al coronel gracias enfermera“dijo rouge
Rouge empezó a caminar por todo el hospita
Shall I be a Shakespeare?Shall I be a Shakespeare
And compare you to a summers day?
Or be like any other poet
And draw comparisons between you and May?
I shall see you as the autumn months,
When leaves turn brown and fall.
The trees look much more beautiful
When clad in brazen pall.
Or perhaps you are the winter,
A snowflake that glitters with dawn.
Long nights of comfort before a fire.
A time to smile, instead of mourn.
They say these are both times of death,
Where no beauty can be found.
But beauty depends on where you look,
Even in steel-grey sky and iron-hard ground.
Though you hold not the fires of summer,
Nor the new life that's brought by spring,
The strength of winter and grace of autumn
Are greater, to me, than both those things.
You are a magnificent beauty
With a heart, supposedly, of gold.
But like the autumn, and the winter,
It's a shame you're just as cold.
Death and Wrath: The Twisted EmbraceDeath sat upon his chiselled throne
Wrath in hand
a prisoner, of chance
a lover, perhaps
Life seemed so senseless,
boring; not a struggle
temptation was easy; but yet, they always stay
so well behaved
upon a throne of lies
Death looked to her
Her eyes alive
she craved the blood
of a thousand men
But he loved
yet not another being
The blood came fast
She looked to him
his eyes, dead
he was human, but
She was not
she adored him so
but in pitiful grace
She held him close
and forever, remained
the blood, that ran
Down the lovers' arms
dried, it cracked
it never stayed
The lovers stayed enticed
in a twisted embrace
forever they would stay
in this hell-like trace...
Quando os níveos ferrões da noite intensa
Inoculam-me tóxica peçonha
Que leva-me à tristeza mais medonha
E causa-me ao espírito descrença;
Quando a palavra aos lábios meus é densa
E, congelado em sólida vergonha,
À noite, solitário, já não sonha
Este ser de esperança tão imensa;
Dentre as nuvens noturnas eis que surge
Aquela que nas tênebras se insurge
Contra as trevas em tétrico tropel:
Vem curar-me do amargo nevoeiro
Que me roubou da vista o Sol inteiro
A Lua, imperatriz do negro céu!
A Silent SonnetHearts fill with longing for what is not theirs-
tempting, enticing like only addicts know.
Desperately pushed to the point of despair,
this fluttery stomach is now their worst foe!
Secrets left screaming upon airtight lips,
they refuse to slip, mustn't endanger
true meaning in those very "subtle" quips
which, try as they might- refuse to waver.
So giving up may seem the only choice
in this defeat. But that would mean to lose
the most precious treasure. They hold their voice
and silence their souls, becoming subdued.
There's pain in each agonizing moment,
but worth it for every shared instant spent.
Keep in Touch!
Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More